


Ask Me No Questions...

by link621



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-25 10:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/link621/pseuds/link621
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inui's teammates have been asking him about the importance of first kisses, but he is too embarrassed to tell them the truth of his own first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask Me No Questions...

By the time Inui was in high school, there was one topic that seemed to plague the minds of all of the girls at the school above all else. Like many such topics, it was related to boys. And feelings. And kissing.  
  
No amount of data could have prepared him for the fact that the same conversation would arise with his (male) teammates. Sure, there was some discussion of the ideal length of the Seigaku uniform skirt in relation to stockings or the quality of player A's legs or player B's posterior in the standard white tennis shorts, but eventually there was whispering, too, about the matter of first kisses.  
  
First kisses held importance over other kisses, despite the fact that many stories (or the stories that Inui had... "overheard in passing") were rarely as interesting as the idea might suggest. Many girls seemed to have experienced their first kiss as children with a boy on the playground and then insisted that they were going to have a magical, "real first kiss," with a boy they liked at some undetermined later time.   
  
It was a wonder that girls at the school were able to focus long enough to complete their homework or understand the material being reviewed in class with how often their brains were consumed with such thoughts. Inui was quite certain that no man would become wrapped up in the idea, especially not one of great respect and discipline.  
  
Except for Kaidou.  
  
"Hey... senpai," the younger student ventured one warm afternoon when they were the only remaining club members in the locker room, and the sunlight filtered orange through the windows. The silence between them had been comfortable, it was always comfortable with Kaidou, but Inui had guessed that something was bothering the other boy the moment Kaidou left for practice without his trademark bandanna. Inui had learned it was safer for everyone involved if he allowed Kaidou to approach him when he was troubled, rather than the other way around.  
  
"Yes, Kaidou?" Inui turned, buttoning his uniform shirt. Kaidou was still wearing his shorts, holding his tennis polo in his hands. For a second (or two) longer than needed, Inui considered Kaidou's spine and the ridge of muscle formed around it. His skin was tan and slick with sweat. Inui adjusted his glasses.  
  
A soft hiss escaped Kaidou's lips and he turned around to face his upperclassman properly. His cheeks were tinted pink, his lips set in a determined frown. "Senpai... have you..." His shoulders tightened. "Has anyone ever..." Then, angry, Kaidou snapped, "Have you kissed someone, or what?"  
  
The outburst startled Inui, though he kept his expression as neutral as possible. The truth was, he had. But the truth was also extremely embarrassing and Kaidou would likely never speak with him again. Inui considered it, trying to think of a story that Kaidou could identify with - one that would put him at ease, as he was clearly upset enough just by asking the question to begin with.  
  
"Yes..." Inui confirmed cautiously. "It was Tezuka."  
  
Kaidou's jaw all but hit the floor and he blurted out, "Tezuka-buchou?" He seemed to think better of yelling at his upperclassman a moment later and asked lamely, "I... you kissed Buchou?"  
  
"Yes. It was when we were in middle school..."  
  
 _The National Championship was over, Seigaku was victorious, we could all go home and rest easily that night. I offered to walk home with Tezuka and I took his hesitance to decline as a sign that he wished for the company. As we walked, I recounted the matches that we played, running through them to remind him of all we had accomplished; he remained silent, looking ahead._  
  
Tezuka is only one of two people who defy data so completely that I cannot read them. In that moment, I could catch a glimpse of melancholy - I hypothesized that it was because he would be leaving all of us, soon, to pursue his professional career. He had accomplished his goals with Seigaku, but it left him without direction.  
  
When we arrived at his gate, his hand paused on the latch. "Inui," he told me, "Good work, today." It was the closest thing to direct praise I have ever heard from Tezuka. He is not the sort of person who does not acknowledge hard work and accomplishment, but very rarely would he verbalize it in such an obvious manner.  
  
He faced me, our eyes met. I wondered if I had ever known the color of his eyes before that moment.   
  
"I'll be leaving it to you," he continued. "Don't-"  
  
"Get careless," I finished. He awarded me with a frown.  
  
"Yes," he confirmed. He stepped closer to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. Though he was tall, I was taller.  
  
Something in that moment, something intimate and squiggly-  
  
"Squiggly, Senpai?"  
  
"Yes, Kaidou."  
  
 _Something intimate and squiggly overcame me. I leaned closer, examining his face from up close. He hummed questioningly low in his throat, little more than a deep grumble. He did not know what was going to happen, but he also trusted me enough to not shove me away for invading his personal space. So, I kissed him._  
  
"...Just like that." Kaidou's brow was drawn in annoyance, now, his lips pulled down in an agitated frown. Either he was not buying Inui's story or he thought it was a stupid story. Probably the latter.  
  
Once more, Inui adjusted his glasses. "There is not much more  _to_  kissing, Kaidou."  
  
Flustered, Kaidou grumbled something under his breath, shouldering his bag. The story had taken Inui so long to tell that Kaidou was fully dressed and ready to escape the locker room as quickly as possible.  
  
"I'll walk you home," Inui offered.  
  
"N-No!" Kaidou sputtered out, his voice suddenly jumping again. "I'll get home on my own."   
  
Inui tilted his head to the right, watching Kaidou scramble out. Was it something he said?  
  
  
  
But that was not the last Inui heard of the topic. It was Echizen who found him, next, though his approach was vastly different from Kaidou's. While it was something that was on Kaidou's mind (something that he wished to experience for himself, based upon the way he took the line of questioning), Echizen was concerned about the topic only because he was the one attracting all of the attention. Reasonable, if not an overreaction to a relatively minor problem.  
  
"Inui-senpai," Echzen drawled, leaning into the fence that surrounded the tennis courts heavily. He no longer played on the team, his level was well beyond that of the high school circuit, but he would sleaze around practice, sometimes, like he had nothing better to do with his time. It was possible he did not, Inui noted to himself, Echizen was notoriously lazy. "Why do girls obsess over kissing, anyway?"  
  
Inui flipped a page in his notebook, glancing briefly at Fuji, and comparing his backhand stroke to what he had written in Inui’s notes. Fuji’s grip had shifted since Inui last observed him - his hand was moving away from continental by nearly a full bevel. Many players were physically stronger than Fuji, now, and he had to adjust accordingly - he hit more slices rather than taking the ball head-on.   
  
"Many people of both genders enjoy kissing, Echizen," Inui reminded him, noting Fuji's grip in the notebook.  
  
Seigaku's Ace sighed heavily, cracking open his can of grape Ponta and taking a sip. "But this is like... all the time." His shoulders slumped more, his expression turning to one of extreme distaste.   
  
With another nod, Inui agreed, "It is definitely something girls talk about often."  
  
"And then they try to tell you they love you and ask you to be their boyfriend and it's  _weird_ ," Echizen added hastily, taking another drink from the Ponta. For a brief moment, Inui doubted his eyes - it was indeed  _Ponta_  that Echizen was drinking and not  _beer_? Normally, he would not have even approached this subject with anyone, if he was even thinking about it at all.  
  
"Girls are weird," Inui said cautiously.  
  
Echizen looked at him from under the brim of his hat - something was brewing behind those gold eyes. "Have you kissed someone?"  
  
There was that question again, and the same issue arose - Inui could not very well answer truthfully without revealing embarrassing data to Echizen, and he was almost certain that his underclassman already thought he was exceptionally odd. "Yes," he confirmed finally, after a great deal of deliberation. "I was kissed by Atobe."  
  
Echizen spit grape soda through the fence onto the court. He finally managed to choke out, " _Atobe_?"  
  
"Yes." Inui was not positive, but he was almost certain he ought to be offended that Echizen was so shocked. He snapped the notebook of Fuji's data shut and continued, "It is not as strange as it might sound..."  
  
 _Atobe had turned me down for a friendly singles match twenty-seven times in the past, but hastily agreed when Tezuka interfered on my behalf._  
  
"Twenty-seven times? Don’t you know when to quit, Inui-sempai?"  
  
 _...Regardless, we met on the Hyoutei courts. Atobe insisted we play on clay._  
  
"They have clay?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Green?"  
  
"No, red."  
  
"Huh, I would think they’d have green." Echizen leaned more of his weight into the fence.  
  
Inui adjusted his glasses with one finger, tucking his book of data under his opposite arm. "Echizen, if you wish to hear the story, I must ask for no more interruptions."  
  
"Sure, whatever."  
  
 _The match was an excellent opportunity to gather data on Atobe, who can be illusive to even the most practiced data specialists. Though I was able to predict many of his movements, as we played he became more determined. It became clear that I was not reading his movements, but that he was predicting what I would perceive of him and playing into it._  
  
"So, he saw through your data tennis and made you think he didn’t? Sounds like the monkey king." Echizen made a claw-like motion with his hand over his face. "Insight?"  
  
"You are interrupting again, Echizen. Do you wish for me to stop there?"  
  
"No!" A pause, then Echizen tugged at the brim of his hat. "I mean, whatever the story is, I gotta hear this one."  
  
 _It became difficult to win even a single point off of Atobe as his true strength emerged. I eventually did succumb to his... unusual ability to, "evolve," through the course of the match. We met at the net to shake hands - there, he told me that he could see all of my weaknesses. My weaknesses did not lie in my fundamentals, as it does for so many players, but in my psyche._  
  
"Normally I wouldn’t do this, but as a personal favor to Tezuka, let me offer you some free advice. You have become so focused that you miss the big picture," he explained, resting his racquet over his right shoulder. "If you focus on the way the ball bounces from each individual piece of gravel on the court, you will miss the exhaustion of your thighs that slows your movements."  
  
"You are implying that I am easily distracted, Atobe."   
  
"You are. Allow me to show you."  
  
And then he kissed me.  
  
"...Like that?"  
  
"Well, he grabbed my shirt and dragged me closer. He is quite short."  
  
"Not  _that_  short." Echizen grumbled, still working his mind around the blatant lie Inui had been telling him. There was a lesson, there, of course - one that Tezuka had been attempting to impart upon the whole of the Seigaku tennis team for a score of years: to not let one’s guard down around anyone, let alone Atobe. "He’s so weird," was Echizen’s final conclusion.  
  
"Yes. Atobe is a strange person."  
  
"...You’re even weirder, Inui-sempai."  
  
  
  
Though Kaidou and Echizen were more or less satisfied with their answers, the question of first kisses arose again - several times that week, in fact.  
  
"Sanada is more forward than appearances might have you believe," Inui told a very shocked Oishi over the phone. Oishi’s tone implied that he was quite sorry that he asked.  
  
"Shiraishi does not always speak with a Kansai dialect," he explained to Fuji who humored him with an amused smile, though he suspected that Fuji also believed him to be a liar.  
  
"He doesn't need the glasses," he confided in Momoshiro who demanded why Inui would want to kiss someone like Oshitari, anyway? Did he even know where Oshitari had been?  
  
He found himself in a position where he had more romantic interests than friends, which was becoming awkward, but at least none of them knew the real story. The real story was the worst of all. Certainly worse than kissing Niou, who he thought was Yagyuu, despite what Kikumaru had to say about it.   
  
An increasingly strange reputation was no big deal by comparison to the embarrassment of the actual story.   
  
Of course, it could not last forever.  
  
  
  
" _Yukimura-buchou_?" Kirihara’s jaw appeared to detach from his skull much like that of a snake, waiting to swallow a rat whole. He was just the latest victim of Inui’s path of lies. Just as quickly as he had made the exclamation, a thought sobered him, bringing his brow together in a troubled line. "But... I mean, I know you’re  _weird_ , and all, but I thought it’d at least be a  _girl._ "  
  
Inui’s data clearly stated that Sanada Genichirou, now vice captain of Rikkai’s tennis club, had once mistaken Yukimura Seiichi for a girl in their first year of junior high. That particular piece of data was stolen from Renji who thought that Inui would not find the data if it was saved under a folder on his computer that was deliberately mislabeled. He should have known that Inui would become curious about a folder tauntingly labeled, "porn."  
  
(Incidentally, the folder labeled "data" was also significantly mislabeled, unless Renji was gathering data for something... sordid.)  
  
Inui titled his head to the side a fraction, regarding Rikkai’s Ace. "It is not weird. As a matter of fact, approximately 5-10% of the population have some leanings..."  
  
"He’s lying, Akaya," said Renji, cutting Inui off mid-sentence. He had his tennis bag on his shoulder, his hand rested on the strap to help keep it in place. With age, Renji only continued to get taller, though not much broader, giving the illusion that he had actually surpassed Inui in height (he had not - not by a couple centimeters). His expression remained calm, though panic was twisting around in Inui’s stomach like some sort of gastrointestinal disease.  
  
"Renji." Inui acknowledged, adjusting his glasses on his nose. "You do not-"  
  
"I was his first kiss," Renji explained to his underclassman in an even tone.   
  
Did he not know that it was embarrassing? Did he not remember the day as Inui remembered it? Did it not absolutely mortify him to say such things to his underclassman?  
  
The unexpected happened - Kirihara smiled... though it was more like a snarl, like a cornered animal pulling back its lips to show its teeth. "Heh, now that makes more sense."   
  
"It does?" Inui spat out before he could stop himself.  
  
"It isn’t much to talk about." Motioning with one hand as though he was handing something to Kirihara, Renji explained, "It was before I moved to Kanagawa. Sadaharu became fascinated with how his parents behaved, thinking that they showed love quite openly around others, whereas my parents were more reserved and traditional." Renji spoke the truth - Inui’s parents were all over one another at home. It could sometimes be embarrassing when he had friends over - particularly if it was Tezuka. He could only hope that Tezuka was truly as oblivious to it as he appeared.  
  
"We got on the topic of kissing. For data purposes, we decided we should try it and see what it was like. There was not much else to it."   
  
When Renji said it like that, it really did not sound so bad.   
  
He left out the part with the heat in his cheeks and the flutter in his heart. He omitted the nervous ball in his stomach, the way his hands shook, the fleeting moment when they had kissed but he wasn’t sure they had actually kissed because he was so frightened he pulled away immediately. He forgot to mention that they tentatively held hands first as they built up courage, that Inui’s glasses were in the way, that they could not meet eyes afterward for at least ten minutes. He even skipped over their nervous laughter, the blush that would not fade, and their eventual return to discussing tennis as though none of it ever happened (though it had not left Inui’s mind, even years later).  
  
"Huh? Oh, everyone has a story like that!" Kirihara laughed, a sparkle in his eyes that was reserved for Renji. Inui understood that sparkle - he had that sparkle, too. "That’s not like... a real first kiss, though."  
  
"No," Renji agreed.  
  
Feeling strangely crestfallen, and confused as to why he felt that way, Inui silently agreed when Renji asked if he was ready to leave - they had a friendly match planned in a place where there would be no prying teammates.  
  
  
  
Inui found himself unable to win so much as a point off of Renji. He was caught wrong-footed more than once, never completely able to recover. He estimated that Renji was playing at 72% capacity, which should have given Inui an advantage if he chose to take it. They were evenly matched at 100% output. Instead, he felt like a child picking up his racquet for the first time and trying to beat his coach.  
  
There was a worried line sinking into Renji’s forehead - his shots became lighter, slower, delivered directly to Inui’s strike zone. He knew Inui’s movements better than Inui himself - not such a wonder, but even Renji’s data was not this perfect.  
  
Finally, in frustration, Inui let the ball pass by him, adjusting his glasses on his nose. "You are not playing at your best," he stated.  
  
"You are hardly playing," Renji noted in return, standing straight and balancing the head of his racquet on the tips of his fingers of his left hand.  
  
VOLKL Catapult Midplus V1 series. A light, maneuverable racquet meant for control, not power. An experienced player could get decisive shots at the net, and a quick serve, as well as a good amount of topspin from the baseline with an open string pattern. Very different from the timeless classic Prince Graphite Challenge Inui himself favored. Made famous by Andre Agassi, but praised for being a solid all-round power and control racquet. Prince had since introduced plenty of other solid and well rounded racquets, the Black series was their most popular, but Inui stuck with what he knew.  
  
Renji, drawn to control. Inui, drawn to what had always been known to work, rather than taking risks. They were more different than Inui had given them credit for, no matter how they may have thought similarly or played a similar game of tennis.  
  
"...Hakase?" With a tilt of his head, Renji looked like a bird... regarding Inui from his perch.  
  
"Why did you tell Kirihara about the kiss?"  
  
The answer was simple. "Why did you lie about it?"  
  
That answer was more complex.   
  
Renji seemed to abandon the prospect of playing any further, moving away from the court to slip his racquet into his tennis bag. Inui watched, not really seeing Renji or his movements - he saw a much younger boy with a mop of perfectly straight brown hair who did not have to bend so far to put away his racquet.  
  
Back then it was the VOLKL Oragnix series; a light-weight control racquet intended for an advanced junior who did not want to move up to an unwieldy adult racquet. Inui remembered the bright yellow frame well - it felt like it was a harbinger of what was to come, knowing now that Renji had transferred to Rikkai.  
  
Satisfied that silence was his answer, Renji explained, "You are not the last person I have kissed, Sadaharu. As you are aware, I have had several casual relationships. You are also not the only person who has had their first kiss with me." He shouldered his tennis bag while Inui processed the information. It was information Inui possessed, but somehow the even tone with which Renji presented the information, and the slight annoyance on his face that appeared as little more than thin line of his lips... it made an unpleasant feeling bubble up in Inui like bile in his throat. Before he could express any of that, Renji concluded, "First kisses are nothing special."  
  
After spending a week convincing everyone on the Seigaku tennis team that first kisses were, in fact, quite special, Inui could not but protest. "It was special to me," he spoke confidently, though they were not the words that he intended to speak. Surprised with himself, he frowned.  
  
...Perhaps it was true. Perhaps he had to lie to everyone because it was special - Renji was special.   
  
Renji regarded him seriously, leveling him with a look that Inui so rarely saw off the court - a look that meant that his full attention was upon you, and you could suffer the consequences of just that.  _He has nice eyes_ , Inui mused, gazing into the face of the lion. It was a suspiciously meaningless observation.  
  
"A kiss... for a kiss to have meaning, there has to be meaning behind the kiss," Renji reasoned. "Which there was none, that day." He shrugged, his expression fading to his usual pleasantly neutral look. "I’ve never kissed someone that way."  
  
"That way," Inui parroted.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Silence fell between them. Inui felt awkward holding his racquet, still. "Kyouju... I have overestimated... no, miscalculated-"  
  
Renji stepped closer, shaking his head. His voice held something unfamiliar to Inui...  _meaning_? "The... miscalculation was mine."  
  
  
  
"And then he kissed me."  
  
There was a long pause on the phone - too long to be chalked up to the natural delay in an international call, just long enough that Inui wondered if his former captain had hung up on him. He did that, sometimes.  
  
"It’s not like you to lie, Inui," Tezuka stated flatly, finally breaking the silence.  
  
"...It is not an exaggeration, Tezuka." Inui reached up to adjust his glasses, but he was not wearing them - he did not wear them to bed. It was an awkward hour of night, but the only time he was guaranteed to catch Tezuka in his timezone.  
  
"Echizen told me what you said," Tezuka said by way of explanation.  
  
"Yes, that was a lie. A white lie. You see, it was an opportunity to educate Echizen-"  
  
"Good night, Inui."  
  
Inui pulled the phone away from his ear and listened to the tell-tale clack of the phone as Tezuka hung up.  
  
Slender fingers wrapped around the phone, plucking it out of his hand. "You dug yourself this hole," Renji told him. He set the phone on the bedside table and then rested his head back on the pillow, his chin just touching Inui’s shoulder. "You can lie in it."  
  
Inui glanced at Renji blindly, through the fog of his horrendous vision, and managed to kiss him somewhere around the corner of his eye, which was not at all where he was aiming. Renji chuckled, humoring him with a kiss just below his lower lip - a calculated maneuver. Inui would have to keep trying to find his lips.  
  
The highest truth in the world, above any lies he had told up until then, was that Renji’s kisses were the best. They were worth the work it took to catch him and pin him down. They were warm and tender; fleeting and frisky.  
  
Intimate. Meaningful.   
  
...Squiggly.


End file.
